


Three Things To Consider Before Sharing a Flat (And One That May Be Dan Howell Exclusive)

by fridaynightbitchfights



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Comedy, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 17:56:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12822960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fridaynightbitchfights/pseuds/fridaynightbitchfights
Summary: A list of common flatmate problems, as told by Dan and Phil.





	Three Things To Consider Before Sharing a Flat (And One That May Be Dan Howell Exclusive)

_1.) Nakedness will ensue. Doesn’t matter if you don’t want it, it’s going to happen._

“The only way you know you guys are true friends is if you’ve seen each other’s dicks,” Felix tells him one day over lunch. Dan immediately forgets he’s in a public place and loses his breath laughing so hard. Felix catches Dan’s giggle bug and laughed himself, but his eyes contained a spark of “wisdom”.

“Oh, you think I’m kidding? Nuh-uh. That is real, real talk. From me to you. You’re welcome,” But Felix’s facade washes away in a wave of laughter.

The prophecy is fulfilled the following morning. As Dan walks into the bathroom, innocently needing to pee, only to get an eyeful of a very naked Phil. Luckily for Dan, he was so sleepy he hardly registered what he saw until after he was hurriedly ushered out the room. The universe was surely having a laugh at his expense. Surely.

If Phil had decided to actually face Dan sooner rather than later, than perhaps the situation might’ve been easier to brush off. But alas, poor embarrassed Phil practically teleported to his room and isolated himself– probably huddling in his blankets to hide away from the world– directly after finishing his shower. (Phil did not teleport fast enough because Dan still saw more of his pale skin than he cared to see.)

Hours after the incident, while Dan considers setting an appointment with a therapist for traumatic imagery, is when Phil finally decides to poke his head into the lounge again. The tension inside the room quickly turning palpable enough for Dan to feel like he’s instantly drowning in it.

Phil’s face is so red that even his blush is blushing, so Dan makes quick work of breaking the ice.

“I give it an eight out of ten. A strong eight.”

A beat passes for the words to click into Phil’s brain, and once they do his mouth gapes and his eyes look incredulous like he’s revving up to scold Dan for being so crude, but then he just explodes with laughter. Phil’s guffawing rips the tension at the seams, revealing radiating beams of sunlight so strong that beds of flowers bloomed instantly around Dan’s field of vision.

“Why is the eight strong? Does the eight have muscles?” Phil finally manages to shoot back.

“What? No?” Dan squeaks because of the image in his head, a sentient number eight flexing its biceps with all the veins popping out, disturbs him. Only Phil. “Y’know what? That’s a point. It’s a lanky eight instead.”

It’s only when Phil aims a sofa pillow at Dan’s face does their routine fall back into place.

_2.) There is no such thing as “mine” and “yours” anymore. Say goodbye to boundaries._

The camera purchase that landmarked the beginning of his “Taking YouTube Like It’s Serious Business, Oh Yes” era was the last time Dan bought something for himself. That didn’t even last too long, as he and Phil eventually just pooled enough money to buy one nice camera instead of owning two kinda shit ones.

It’s when Louise sends him a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk as she witnessed Dan wearing Phil’s shirt does Dan consider taking a headcount of his things.

  * my laptop (that phil knows the password to)
  * okay fuck this



Eventually, Dan asks Phil what he thinks about this over Indian take away. Phil just shrugs.

“So, it doesn’t bother you at all.” Dan didn’t ask but made an affirmative statement based on observation. Phil’s nonchalance said more than any phrase and to say that Dan was a bit taken aback would be an understatement.

Phil had to struggle to finish his mouthful of chicken tikka to say “No?”

“I’m just saying, it’s a bit weird, isn’t it?”

At that, Phil completely stops any further eating to give Dan a scrutinizing look. As if he were taking apart Dan’s sentence that was laid out on the table in front of him to look for the hidden meaning behind his chosen words. (Dan considers then that he can’t hide anything from Phil. He just knows.)

Phil eventually settles on a “Why?”

“I, uh, I dunno.”

“Okay then,” Dan thinks the conversation is dropped right then, but Phil quickly adds, “I like buying things for the flat and things for the both of us, so I’m glad you don’t actually think it’s weird.”

“Huh,” Dan supposes that, yeah, he doesn’t actually think it’s weird that he doesn’t really have anything for himself anymore. In fact, the notion is so ridiculous he’s left to wonder why the hell it bothered him enough to actually have a pointless conversation about it in the first place. Chalk it up to that annoying bugger called Insecurity. However, he wasn’t going to let Phil win this so easily. “To be fair though, you do need to do a better job with the laundry.”

“Every shirt looks the same inside out, leave me alone,” Phil pouts.

_3.) If you pick your flatmate right, the inevitable arguments won’t be the end of the world._

With time, Dan figures out that it is spectacularly easy to piss off Phil. Sure, most days he was pretty chilled out. But like everyone, Phil had those certain peeves that drove him insane in that Phil way. And the Phil way of dealing with annoyances is to send looks so ferocious, they could spontaneously combust anything in sight, Dan especially.

If prompted to list an item of “Things Dan Sucks At”, Phil would, with neck-breaking speed, say “Punctuality. Definitely.” and then launch into a story of how infuriating morning appointments are with Dan. Luckily for him, Phil has only told one of these stories on the radio, because both of them know that there are enough incidents to fill out a sheet of paper that goes all the way from the UK to Russia. Three times over.

It’s not like Dan doesn’t care about punctuality. He likes being early to things, but it’s not like it takes him a long time to get ready anyway, so he doesn’t see the point of getting up early when he could just be catching up on sleep instead. Phil, on the other hand, likes to plan for the unexpected. What if there’s traffic? What if there’s a delay on the tube because a train derailed? What if a comet strikes London? Worst of all, what if their co-workers think they’re lazy for not getting to their meetings 30 minutes early?!

Phil wants Dan to get up, Dan wants to stay in bed until the last possible minute. Phil really wants Dan to get up, Dan really wants to stay in bed until the last possible minute. That’s how they end up bickering around in circles for close to half an hour.

“Ugh! I can’t believe you, Dan! Just get off your ass already, Jesus Christ!”

“Fucking hell, just leave me alone. I’m not gonna get up!”

“The taxi has been waiting outside for us for five minutes!”

“Oh shit! Why didn’t you just say that instead of having a go at me!”

“If you just listened to me we wouldn’t even be having this problem!”

They go back and forth like this whilst going down the stairs, across the street, and into the taxi. Dan and Phil only consider shutting up when the driver rolls up the partition with a mutter of “annoying couples”.

With time, Dan figures out it is spectacularly easy to make up with Phil. Dan’s pride is a bit hard to swallow, but he does have to admit he was being a stubborn dick. At the BBC, Dan says a meek “Sorry” while handing Phil a chocolate bar he got from the vending machine down the hall as a peace offering.

Phil smiles, and Dan knows it’s enough.

* * *

The sound of duct tape being unrolled breaks Dan from his thoughts. Figuring he doesn’t want to face his reality, he goes back to typing as if he hadn’t heard it.

_* The only time you’ll picture a future without them is on the off chance that they die without you. I don’t know how the fuck that happened but_

Dan hears the duct tape again, and he gives up. He doesn’t even know where he was going with that sentence anyway, so fuck it.

Flatmates move out eventually. Dan doesn’t know which scatterbrained intern forgot to deliver him the memo, or perhaps he always had the memo but hid it under a miscellaneous pile of papers on purpose. But if he can blame someone else, he will damn it.

Phil dropped the bomb about 3 days ago. Just an “I wanna move out” and Dan saw a fog akin to disaster.

They had a long discussion that night. Not a catastrophic argument, though Dan did feel scorned and ready unleash a beast, unlike anything the world has ever seen. He suddenly just felt tired, so damn tired.

The following days were a post-apocalyptic aftermath. Phil was hardly in the house, too busy flat hunting for most of the day. When he was around, they hardly spoke to each other. Phil tried, but conversation withered away when Dan didn’t reciprocate. 

And a few hours ago, when Phil pulled him into the lounge to divide their movie collection, it was almost as if they were both presents in front of a family court or something. No jives, just business. (Dan doesn’t want to think about the implications of “family court”, they never had that kind of relationship. It was a surprisingly fitting metaphor all the same, though.)

The plan for today was to pack up a good amount of Phil’s things and call the landlord to negotiate a different agreement for Dan, and by the lack of duct tape sounds, Phil was done packing.

Dan’s chest constricted at the possibility of leaving his room. It was a bubble where he could neglect his responsibilities, and most importantly, neglect the situation he was in.

Through the thin walls, Dan could hear Phil begin dialing the landlord’s number. Every beep felt like a needle being pierced against his skin, and Dan was helpless to stop it. Once the ringing started, Dan’s nerves started attacking his stomach, his lungs, basically anything they could stab into.

There was another beep, and the ringing stopped. In the stillness of the flat, all Dan could hear was the rustling of bedsheets and padding footsteps while his anxiety fell away piece by piece. Short moments stretched on in silence until they were interrupted by a small sniffle. In a blur, Dan launched off his bed, swung the door open, and looked into the hallway.

There, Phil was leaning against the door frame, his back facing Dan. From the small bit of space of the door Phil wasn’t covering, Dan could see about 3 boxes completely sealed, ready to be hauled away into wherever Phil moved away too. The sight only served to kick Dan in the chest, but his attention quickly turned to Phil himself, who turned towards him. Phil hurriedly tried to hide his face with his hands, but Dan saw a hint of glassiness in his eyes, and that was enough.

“Are you crying? I swear to fucking god if you’re crying.”

Any denial would have been for naught, the waterworks were already too far gone to stop, so Phil didn’t bother to retaliate. Instead, he let his tears go freely. Following his lead, Dan’s composure crumbled, the foundation completely giving in to the wrecking ball of pent-up emotions. No matter how much Dan bowed his head to hide it, his once cold eyes were clouding over with tears, his stone face was breaking with a remorseful frown. His sniffling didn’t help either.

“Da–”

Phil didn’t get to finish whatever he was going to do with that sentence, Dan practically launched himself at him. Phil could hardly register Dan’s arms enveloping his waist, his hair tickling his cheek and Dan’s shuddering breath against his neck as Dan tucked his face into his shoulder. To say that the close proximity of the hug didn’t shock Phil would be lying, and perhaps the sentiment was a bit on the melodramatic side of things, but Phil felt his heart clench as Dan fell apart on his shoulder. Phil wasted no time in pulling Dan ever closer, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and let him continue.

After several eternities of sobbing, Dan finally mustered enough of a voice to say: “I’m such a mess.”

“Dan.”

“I thought I could totally handle you moving away. I mean, it’s not like we’re never going to see each other again, and you better believe I’m going to visit you literally every day. I’m not even joking,” Dan managed to sputter, not once lifting his head from its place on Phil’s shoulder. “But, fuck, I just. I-I don’t even know. It’s just.” Phil ran his thumbs over Dan’s upper back, urging him to spill what was eating him from the inside silently. Dan continued.

“I don’t know how I’ll even handle living by myself. I don’t know who else to just ramble to and have them just get me because no one actually gets me and they just kinda pretend to be polite. I don’t who to go to if I want to play video games or watch movies and TV shows or to just hang out with, because– And it’s not even just you as my friend like it’s just you in general that I would just be so– If you left…” The words fade on Dan’s lips, but they hang in the air, leaving Phil to contemplate them for a bit before Dan wraps them all up.

“Fuck, Phil, you’re so important to me. In so many ways that I can’t even–” And Dan gives up on talking, just holds on a bit tighter to Phil.

It’s not Dan’s best attempt at being articulate, but Phil gets it, so he returns the sentiment.

Phil’s hands find themselves on Dan’s chest, gently pushing him away to create some distance between them. Dan’s ready to deliberately disobey and wrap himself around Phil again like a fucking cobra, but Phil is the first to act. He leans upwards and kisses Dan, ever so gently and sweetly.

Except Phil completely misses his mark and ends up planting one on the very corner of Dan’s lips instead of on them.

“Oops,” Phil muses, but he notices his comment is totally lost on Dan, who is sporting such a large grin that his dimple and crow’s feet are the most prominent Phil’s ever seen them.

Dan, internally, was feeling a multitude of things. First, it was like a big ball of fuzz and warmth had just exploded inside him and his veins were practically glowing in thanks. Then, it was like his heart had punched a hole through his ribs and was just fluttering around freely, not even caring that it was causing havoc. Dan was just filled with so much unfiltered joy that he couldn’t stop giggling for half a second to even say anything to Phil.

Again, Phil gets it, and giggles along with him, basking in the affection bubbling around the atmosphere.

“I think you should help me unpack my things.” Phil manages, finally.

“Oh, thank god.” Dan sighs, and he’s back to wrapping his arms around Phil. “If you ever do something like that again, I will actually punch you in the mouth.”

“I’m sorry.” Phil says in between laughs and hugs Dan equally as tight.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted: 03/12/2015
> 
> It's been two years since I've written this and Dan and Phil have actually moved... but together. I hate these saps.


End file.
